


firewatch

by itisjosh



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alzheimer's Disease, Anxiety, Camping, Dementia, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Early Mornings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Inspired by Firewatch (Video Game), Isolation, Light Angst, M/M, Mystery, Nature, Near Death Experiences, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Wilderness, Wildlife, willing isolation tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28234980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh
Summary: Sapnap has early onset dementia, which develops into Alzheimer's.Dream is unable to even look at his friend without breaking down, so he leaves, taking a job as a firewatch lookout.A man named George calls him on his radio - and Dream isn't as alone anymore.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 44





	firewatch

Dream met Sapnap when he was thirteen, and they immediately became best friends. They were never seen apart from one another, and they were the closest people anyone could ever met in their entire life. Everything about them just clicked, they had similar senses of humours, the same values and morals, similar goals. They moved in together, they had the same job as each other, and they did everything with each other. Dream never planned on changing any of that.

But he never had a choice. 

Sapnap started to forget things, he started to slip. His eyes were distant and hazy, he would stop talking in the middle of sentences. He'd look off into the distance, staring at nothing, and Dream could see that his mind was fading. Dream took him to the hospital one night, when it got _really_ bad, and they had told him that they were sorry. 

Early onset dementia, that's what they called it. There is no cure, there is no hope. There is only watching, and Dream did that. He sat by Sapnap's bed every single day, telling him about their lives, how they met, the adventures that they went on. Dream explained everything, he answered every single question his best friend had, and he could almost pretend like Sapnap wasn't forgetting. Almost. 

And then, one day, Sapnap stared at him with a blank look in his eyes. "Who are you?" He asked, and Dream shattered. Dream was the one thing Sapnap never forgot, and Sapnap forgot him. Dream left, he couldn't stay. He left, he raced back to his car and drove past their house. He kept driving until he ran out of gas, and then some. Dream barely managed to make himself go back to nursing home where his best friend was staying. He barely could look him in the eyes and murmur an "I'm sorry". Sapnap just gave him a bright grin and a warm laugh, his eyes gently fogging over. Sapnap didn't remember what Dream was sorry for. 

Maybe it was better like that. 

Dream couldn't do it anymore after that. He knew it was selfish and gross, but he couldn't do it. He stopped showing up, he stopped calling and visiting and he stopped thinking about his friend in that fucking home. He stopped everything, and once he stopped, he couldn't get going again. He spent months laying in his bed, staring up at his ceiling, which always stared back at him. He barely could drag himself out of bed to shower or eat, and no one was coming to visit him anymore, not after he stopped showing up to see Sapnap. Which was fair, he understood that. 

Didn't make it any less difficult. 

His mom texted him one day, completely unprompted. All she sent was a link to a job, and Dream wanted to throw his phone against the wall. But, against his better judgement, he clicked on the link and was sent to a website. He stared at the words, scrolled through the pages, hardly processing any of the information. He barely understood anything that the job was about or what the words meant or _anything_ , but in the end, he applied.

And he got the job. 

* * *

Dream parks his car in the car lot, swinging his backpack over his shoulders. His metal water bottle hits his hip, and he winces, sighing at the rippling pain that disappears after a moment. He slams his car door shut, scanning the area around him. Everything is completely quiet, devoid of any civilized noises. Dream smiles a little, watching as the trees sway gently in the breeze, a soft wind blowing over him, rustling his hair. Dream runs his fingers through his hair, glancing towards the tower he can see in the distance. It's a fire lookout, and it's Dream's tower for the rest of the foreseeable future. He's never had a job like this before, but he thinks that he'll like it. 

Isolation isn't all that bad, especially when you're running from something. 

Dream sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets as he starts to walk towards the trail. It winds up a hill, dipping down into a small valley. Dream has never been to this side of his state before, and it's gorgeous. He glances at the sky, watching as the clouds slowly drift across the orange and purple sky, leaving little trails of what they used to be behind. He keeps walking, dragging his feet along the trail as he does so. His bag is heavy on his back, but less so the more he walks. Dream spares a quick glance over his shoulder, his car already distant and fading. 

Probably for this best, he thinks. 

He heaves a sigh, continues walking. The birds chatter in the distance, singing about something he'll never understand. Dream spots a few rabbits, though they always take off whenever he gets too close. Dream pauses walking, snapping his head towards the sound of a leaf being crushed. He tilts his head to the side, feeling his heart race in his chest when he stares at the massive buck. His antlers have nearly ten points each, he has a jagged scar down his side, and his fur is grey and patched. "Holy shit," Dream murmurs, watching the buck look right back at him, unwavering. The buck puffs out his chest, jerking his head up as he continues to stare. "You're.." he laughs, ducking his head as he lets out a breathy wheeze. "You're kind of scary." Dream admits, watching as the buck seems to perk up at the words. Cocky son of a bitch.

He keeps walking, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to see if the buck is still watching him. He is, his eyes never leaving Dream's body. He feels a shiver go down his spine, and he turns away from the buck's lingering eyes, fidgeting with a coin in his pocket. Dream has never met a deer that would stare him down instead of running. Seems like there's a first for everything. Dream kicks a rock ahead of him, watching as it skips a few times, creating a small cloud of dust every time it touches the ground. He's going to have to get all of the trails memorised, since he'll be walking them daily. 

Dream pauses, looking ahead of himself. His tower is only a few metres ahead of him, and it's a hell of a lot more daunting than it seemed a few minutes ago. Dream swallows, feeling a heavy pressure in his chest. This is real. All of this, it's all real, every single bit of it. He closes his eyes, breathing in crisp fall air, feeling the wind blow across his face. He listens to locusts chitter in the bushes, listens to the birds singing. Dream breathes out, feeling a little more grounded than he had a few moments ago. He keeps walking until he's standing right in front of his tower, looking at the old and worn steps. 

He takes the first step, setting his foot on the first stair. 

It creaks, the sound of old metal assaulting his ears. Dream ducks his head, grinning a little at the sound. He moves his other foot, listening to the same stair creak again. He takes another step, and another, and another, and another, all the way up until he's at the top of his tower. He looks at the interior, raising an eyebrow. There's a small bed in the corner, a dresser next to that. A map of the forest is sprawled out on a desk in the centre of the room. There's a globe on the desk by his bed, a couple pinecones and leaves scattered about. A few pine needles linger at the corners of his windows, and Dream can't help but smile. 

It's nice. 

It's an escape. 

Dream tosses his backpack onto the bed, listening as it thumps. He winces when it does, wishing he had just decided to haul his own mattress up here. He stares at a walkie talkie next to the map, taking it in his hand. He turns it over, tilting his head along with it. There's a small strip of tape on the back, and written on it is his name in neat, cursive handwriting. Dream smiles, wondering who delivered this to him. 

He read the site almost a thousand times over before he came here, and apparently, most of the older lookouts don't use their radios to just..talk. They only use them to report in fires, to report littering and trespassing. They do their jobs without making smalltalk, and Dream..doesn't want that. He really, really doesn't want that. He sets the walkie talkie back down on the table, glancing at a bottle of vodka in the corner, unopened. He frowns, opting to keep it there. He's never been that into drinking, and he isn't going to start now. He came here to escape his problems, not to gain new ones. 

"Hey," Dream nearly jumps out of his skin at the voice, whirling around to face his walkie talkie. "New guy, right?" The man on the other end is British, his voice soft and lulling, almost eerily so. "Sorry, uh, I'm George. I figured I'd call in, make sure you, uh..didn't die on the way up here." Dream wheezes, picking up the device. 

"Didn't die," he reports, leaning back against his table. "I'm Dream. How long have you been working here?" George is quiet for a few moments, and Dream checks to make sure he didn't accidentally forget to push the button that would pick up on his voice. 

"About five years," George responds, and Dream can hear the tapping of a pencil. "Give or take a few months. Had to escape my old town and life, and I figured I might as well help out the earth while doing it."

"A noble cause," Dream smiles, watching the trees sway from out of his window. "I guess we all came here to escape, huh?" He ducks his head, feeling an aching pain in his chest. 

"I guess so," George agrees. "What are you running from, Dream?"

"My best friend," his smile slowly starts to fade. "His name is Sapnap. He has Alzheimer's. He's not even thiry," Dream sighs, his shoulders slouching. His chest hurts. "But, uh, yeah. Sorry, didn't mean to bring down the mood," he forces a laugh. "Does anything interesting normally happen on the first night?" Dream cocks his head to the side, watching a bird flutter past his window. "Or can I get some sleep?"

George laughs, but it sounds just as forced. "I'm sorry about Sapnap, Dream. But, yeah. You can get some rest. I'll check in on you in the morning, alright? Feel free to call in at anytime. I'll be awake for the rest of the night, probably. Goodnight, Dream."

"Alright," Dream smiles. "Goodnight, George." 

Dream shoves his backpack off of his bed, flopping back on the mattress. He rest his head against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. It's unfamiliar and unwelcoming, but it feels safe, almost. It's better than his old ceiling. He closes his eyes, and wills sleep to find him.

* * *

George's voice is loud and annoying, and Dream has decided that he doesn't like his lookout partner. "And so, like I was saying," George continues to ramble on, his voice pitching in height. Dream yawns, rubbing away the sleep in his eyes, his head hanging over the rest of his body. He feels completely drained of energy, and he's only just woken up. Dream suspects that it might just be from the man chattering away in his ear, but that could be a reach. "You should start poking around today, figuring out your trails and where they lead to. You've got a pocket map in one of the drawers, plus the big one on your table. If you get lost, you can always just talk to me and point out some landmarks, and I'll know where you are."

Dream smiles gently, against all better judgement. George is annoying and loud and won't shut up, but it's endearing, almost. Almost. "What, are you some sort of human GPS, or whatever?" He wheezes, crouching down to open the mini fridge at the foot of his bed. "God, there's like, nothing here for food," he stares at the small jug of milk, pulling it out. He grabs an even smaller bowl of cereal, careful to not spill anything on his map. "Do they restock?"

"Of course they do, idiot," George laughs. "You probably just got raided by like, a raccoon or something. They're sneaky little fuckers, you know. Smart, opposable thumbs. They're real enemies."

"Enemies, huh?" Dream giggles, shoving a spoonful of Cheerios into his mouth. "You have a grudge against raccoons or something?" He asks, rolling his eyes at the lack of flavour. It tastes like cardboard. "Who was the last person who was here before me?"

George sighs, sounding tired. "Some guy named Technoblade. He left a couple of months ago, so they should've restocked your tower. I'll call in for you, they'll probably bring you something more than..what are you eating?"

"Cereal."

"Cereal," George repeats. "They'll bring you something more than cereal. Sorry that they left you with nothing," he laughs, not sounding all that sorry at all. Dream smiles along with him when he laughs, feeling his chest ache a little. Sapnap would have liked George. "But, uh, yeah. You should definitely check out your trails and your area. I'm always just a button press away, alright? I'm only a couple hundred metres away from you, anyways."

"I'd say you're a couple hundred miles away from me," Dream laughs, finishing the last of his cereal. He stands up, leaving the bowl there for now. He can clean it up when he gets back. He grabs his backpack, figuring that he might as well that that with him, just in case. He unzips the front, immediately wincing when he sees a picture frame. Right, he hadn't unpacked. Dream takes out the picture, setting it on his desk. It's just of him and Sapnap when they were a little younger, both with huge smiles on their faces. Dream stares at the picture, feeling a hollow ache in his heart. "If I get lost, will you come and save me?" Dream forces himself to speak, to look away from the picture. 

"Nah," George laughs. "I'll get someone else to do it. I prefer to stay in my tower."

"What's the point of being a lookout if you don't get outside?" Dream asks, shoving a granola bar into the front of his bag. He refills his water bottle, putting it back in the side pocket, twisting the lid shut. "It's nice out, especially this time of month. Fall is always a nice season," Dream smiles, running a finger along the top of the picture frame. He turns away, quietly sighing. "You scared of the outdoors?"

George sighs again. "I'm not scared of the outdoors. Just had a bad experience recently, and I don't want a repeat of that," he murmurs, his voice softer than it has been since Dream's started talking to him. "Grizzly. I got caught off guard, and if I hadn't gotten to my tower fast enough.." George groans. "Whatever, not important anymore. It's been taken care of and all that, but..you know? I just don't want to fucking die." 

"Yeah," he silently wishes that he hadn't asked, that he hadn't really pressed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," George tells him. "Really, though. Get the fuck out of your tower, idiot. Exploration is important, and you've never been here before. You need to learn." Dream rolls his eyes, tugging on his hiking boots, slipping on a pair of fingerless gloves. 

"Okay, okay," he laughs, closing his eyes as he grins. "You're so demanding, you know that? Anyways," Dream stands up, cracking his knuckles. "Promise that you're not going to let me get murdered by forest spirits?"

"Never said anything about that," George laughs. "If you die, you die. That's your own problem, Dream. Not mine."

"That's just rude, Gogy," Dream giggles, running his hand along the railing by his stairs as he walks down them. "Tell me about this old park."

* * *

George talks nearly constantly, and it's almost enough to get Dream's mind off of where he came from, off of why he ran. Off of what he was escaping. 

Dream sighs as he throws himself back down in bed, squeezing his eyes shut. It had been hotter today than it had been in the past couple of days, and he didn't enjoy it. Thank god winter is coming soon. "Hey, Dream?" George's voice crackles out from his walkie talkie. "I was sort of drunk when I introduced myself for the first time." Dream wheezes, throwing his head back as he laughs. 

"Thanks for sharing, George."

"I just.." George sighs, sounding frustrated. "I don't know. I figured that I'd..maybe we could introduce ourselves over again, I don't know. I think that we're kind of friends now, and it feels like we got a stupid start." 

Dream smiles softly, keeping his eyes closed as he responds. "I'm Dream. I just came here because I'm running from my past. I like the colour green, I've got green eyes, blonde hair, and freckles. I'm 6'2." George's smile is audible through the boundaries between them. 

"I'm George. I've worked as a lookout for about five years. I'm also running from my past. I like the colour blue, I'm colourblind. Blue is the colour I can see best, so..it makes sense. Brown eyes, brown hair, really, really pale. I'm not telling you my height."

Dream grins. "So..you're short."

"No!" George protests. "I just don't want you to feel embarrassed." Dream rolls his eyes, thumbing the bottom of the walkie talkie. 

"Whatever you say, George. Whatever you say." 

Dream lays back in bed, and for the first time since he's come here, he finally feels free.


End file.
